Playing With Fire
by wheninriverdale
Summary: A short oneshot I wrote on tumblr inspired by Thomas Rhett's Playing With Fire (the version with Danielle, not Jordin - yes it matters) Jughead can't avoid the gnawing in his stomach that is Betty Cooper. Even though they were broken up, he couldn't help but keep going back for more, even if it burned him. I do not own Riverdale or the characters including.


Jughead drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. His entire body was shaking; he could feel the adrenaline pulsing in his veins. His knuckles were stark white against the black wheel as he made the final turn down her drive.

He'd called Betty on the phone just minutes before pulling up to her house. They'd been broken up at least a month now, but he just couldn't quit her. She was a like a drug, so pure and addictive with the way she pulled him in.

Jughead knocked once and the door opened. She'd been waiting for him. "Betty, I-"

"Shut up." she breathed. She tugged on his gray T-shirt, her nails gently scraping against his chest below. Within seconds he had pushed her up against the wall, his mouth on hers. He'd almost forgotten how she tasted.

He couldn't stop. His hands were everywhere at once. His thumb traced along the edge of her jaw, his fingers curling in her hair. Betty smelled of strawberry shampoo and coconut lotion. He drank her in, feeling her hands brush at the skin above the waistband of his jeans.

"We shouldn't be doing this." She moaned, forcing his leather jacket off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

"I know but-" He stopped, dragging his lips down to her neck, suffocating her in kisses. He reached for the cotton shirt she was wearing. "-I need you." He lifted her out of her shirt and reached over his back, removing his own and adding it to the forgotten clothes on the ground.

Like a moth to a flame he was on her skin. Kissing every delicate inch of the girl he once- still loved. Jughead grabbed Betty's waist and lifted her up like old times. She gave into him, hugging his hips with her thighs as he blindly made his way down the hall to her bedroom. He fumbled with the knob, finally opening the door and tossing Betty onto the bed.

He undid his belt, forcing his jeans down as they fell in a heap at his ankles, never taking his eyes off her. Betty lay there in nothing but a pair of silk pajama shorts, her chest heaving as she took the free seconds caught her breath.

Once dressed down to his briefs Jughead joined Betty on her bed, laying beside her like they'd done so many nights before when their relationship was simpler. "Kiss me," she whispered, needing him as much as he needed her.

They were a mess of tangled limbs as they brought their bodies together. Jughead pulled her up on top of him as he throbbed achingly against her inner thigh. He dipped his hand beneath her loose shorts, feeling the familiar skin underneath. At his slightest touched, Betty rocked against him as he explored the soft curves he knew like the back of his hand. She leaned forward and bit the corner of his shoulder, eliciting a moan from his tender lips.

He continued his ministrations under her shorts as if he was fine tuning an instrument. Low moans escaped her lips as she rocked against him once more "Please," she breathed into his mouth.

Without hesitation Jughead rolled Betty over onto her back. "I missed you." He groaned when she grabbed him, forcing his underwear off his hips, following with her shorts.

He lay there above her, waiting for her to say those three words back. To give any sort of sign or inclination that she missed him as well.

Instead of talking Betty spread her legs, inviting him in. She pilfered her fingers in his hair, tugging him down to meet her for a kiss. Finally, he entered her, slow at first, reveling in the feeling of being intimate once again.

"Faster," she moaned, curling her legs around his hips. He clung to her, indenting his fingers into the smooth skin of her creamy thighs, quickening with every thrust. Her hands were clamped around his shoulders, momentarily tattooing his skin with her nails, leaving half moon crescents in their wake.

Sweat formed on his forehead, dripping down his cheeks and the end of his nose. He leaned down to kiss her, tasting the salt above her lip. Her tongue was soft, leading the way as they explored each other's mouths, Jughead's thrusts slowing. It wouldn't be much longer now.

With one hand clenching the sheets to hold himself up, he reached the other between her legs. His fingers found the magic spot, tracing circles over her clit, back and forth until she came.

Jughead was quick to follow, thrusting deep into her one last time before collapsing on the bed beside her.

They turned to face each other. Betty's cheeks were splotched and red. Her skin gleamed in the light of the moon sneaking its way in through the curtains. Jughead brushed aside her hair from her face. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she hid her face in the pillow. "You should go," she mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.

"But-"

"Please Juggie. Go."

Defeated, he stood up and collected his clothes. He'd missed her. He'd missed the taste of her lips, the scent of her hair, the way she looked at him as if he were the only person in the world.

He shouldn't have stopped by. Just like he shouldn't have the three weeks since she'd ended it. He he had a weakness inside of him that insatiably craved the girl he still loved. She'd burned him before, but he couldn't help it. He liked playing with fire.


End file.
